Uppermost At Last
by VeryLongLadder6
Summary: AU.  Niles has a dangerous secret...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello. This story is utterly gratuitous. The idea came to me earlier this week, and I've been completely distracted since. It's just an experiment. I want to know if I can write an actual story, and if you can enjoy it. Reading it back, it's a lot more serious than I intended. Also, I apologize in advance for the dialogue. Please let me know what you think - if it's not worth it I'll cut my losses and run for the proverbial hills.**

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Disclaimer: It isn't mine.

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**'Oil And Truth Shall Get Uppermost At Last.'**

**Scottish Proverb**

Like so many of Niles' misadventures, it begins in a darkened alleyway. CC's misadventures, however, don't usually start at the barrel of a gun.

They've been to see a movie. So normal, and pedestrian, and new. His leg brushes against hers throughout, and by the time they leave CC can't remember the name of the film. They walk back to her apartment, because it's spring, and it's New York and they'll do anything to talk for just a little while longer. He suggests they take a short cut. There's a shadow in the darkness. And then it all goes to hell in a handcart.

The shadow turns out to be a man. There's a scar on his left cheek heading for his lips – it's almost an extension of his smile. When he speaks it's with an eastern European accent, and when he asks for their valuables CC is almost embarrassed by how cliché it all is. But Niles pulls out a knife, and then CC isn't so much embarrassed as she is utterly terrified and after that she somewhat loses track of things.

The man has a gun. It's big and it's black and CC knows it could hurt like a motherfucker. There's a clang as the knife hits the floor and they're suddenly alone and unprotected. The man smiles. When he asks for it, CC starts taking off her necklace, but her hands are shaking too badly, and Niles leans over to help her. He puts his arms around her neck and whispers in her ear. It's not quite how she's imagined it. But he's warm and he smells so familiar. She isn't alone. She is protected.  
'When I say "now," turn around,' he says.

He takes her necklace off, and extends his hand to the man, who knows better. He tells Niles to put it on the floor, and Niles laughs before he complies. Had she been thinking clearly, CC would probably found that odd. But she isn't and she doesn't, and she's already trying to remove the matching bracelet.

By the time she leans over to ask for Niles' help with the bracelet, she realises both men are now on the floor. The man has his hand on Niles' throat, and CC can hear Niles gargling something which sounds suspiciously like "now." Still she doesn't move. So Niles flips himself on top of this man and reaches for the knife, and now there's no mistake about it.

'Now!' he yells, but still she doesn't turn. Niles is struggling to contain the man beneath him, 'CC, turn around...' he says '...please.'

And so she turns around, but she can't remember why. There are a couple of noises she tries not to understand. A warm hand touches her shoulder. She turns to face him, and the colour of his shirt answers all her questions.

'It's not my blood,' he says.  
'Niles, what just happened?' His hands are on her waist. He's trembling and breathing heavily. She can hear the thumping of a heart and she really hopes it's hers.  
'I don't know,' he says, 'but we need to leave right now.'

He grabs her hand, pulls her further into the alley, out the other side. She turns back, glances at the lump on the floor which used to be a man, and by the time she recognises intestines she regrets it. He pulls his jacket closed and drags her into a cab, asking for an address she doesn't recognise.

'Niles, we can't just leave.'  
'Listen to me CC –'  
'You just killed someone, Niles,' she says, and she is almost hysterical. 'You just killed someone. Why would you –'  
'CC –'  
'What the hell were you thinking?'  
'CC –'  
'And where did you get a knife from?' He puts his hand on her mouth. It's warm and it smells like metal. CC thinks she may vomit.  
'We aren't alone.'

* * *

They get out somewhere in the Village, walking a block before stopping at a boarded up shop-front. Down the side of the building they reach a door, and from his pocket Niles pulls a key she hasn't seen before. He opens it, ushers her inside. It's dark, and Niles turns on the light. There's an empty bookcase and 5 chairs arranged round a table, beneath which sits a bag. Niles drags it onto the table and opens it. He takes off his jacket and begins to remove his shirt.

'I knew that man,' he says, 'a long time ago he worked for me.'  
'You must have been a terrible boss.' He laughs despite himself, and she tries not to watch him undress.  
'Probably. He was certainly a terrible employee.'  
'What were you doing?' she asks, sitting at the table, running her fingers through her hair.  
'Nothing good.'

'Niles, why would you kill him?'  
'CC,' he pulls on a black jumper from the bag, 'don't think for one second that he wouldn't have killed us,' he pauses, 'or worse.'

'What happened between you two?'  
'Nothing good.'

'Why did he come for you? What does it mean?'  
'That they know where I am.' He slips off his grey dress pants, and pulls on some black trousers from the bag. CC averts her eyes so fast the room spins.  
'"They"?'  
'There were others.'  
'Others?'  
'Three more. I need to go.'  
'Go where?' She asks.  
'I have to find them.'

'What about me?'  
'You need to go home. Don't do anything unusual,' He smiles as he pulls on his shoes. 'Well, don't do anything unusual for you. Stick to your routine like glue. I'll be keeping an eye on you.'  
'Niles –'  
'Non-negotiable CC.'

She nods. He puts his jacket back on, closes the bag and slings it onto his shoulder.  
'Time to go,' he says, and she rises from the chair. They stand for a moment, in the near-dark, and look at each other. Even now; her makeup smudged, afraid and confused, she looks beautiful. He wants more than anything to stay with her. He feels something at the bottom of his stomach. Either he's _longing_ for her or he's about to vomit. He's rooting for longing.

'I'm so sorry,' he says. 'I didn't think this would ever happen.'  
'Let me help you.'  
'No.'

And he's gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: A mid-week update. It feels like I'm cheating on real life. Not a great chapter, sorry. Lots of stilted dialogue. Completely fanciful - indulge me.**

**...**

For disclaimer see Chapter 1.

**...**

CC can't remember how she gets home. She sits in her kitchen. Pours a drink with shaking hands. Then she stands and pours it down the sink instead. She picks up the phone, dials Maxwell's number. Stupid idea. She puts it down again.

She needs a shower. Shrugs off her jacket, unbuttons her dress. She stands in front of the mirror in the lingerie she'd expected Niles to be ripping off her. Somehow she looks different now; after the fact. And there's something missing. Oh shit. Her necklace is gone. It's probably still in the alley, tangled in innards. Oh, _shit_.

CC Babcock is a hellish talented woman. She's intelligent and confident and cool under pressure. An asset in any boardroom, invaluable behind any desk. She's decisive and forceful and everything a man should be, with all the bits no man can refuse. And she knows there's not one room she can't command. Yet here she is, losing her grip.

She doesn't even know where Niles is, it's not like she can call him. He said he'd be watching, but of course failed to explain what the hell that meant. She seriously considers hanging a white sheet from her window before she remembers he's no dashing hero, and she sure as hell isn't the damsel in distress. She can do this.

OK. So the police will have her necklace. It'll have her fingerprints all over it. It's a £300,000 one-of-a-kind Harry Winston, with more diamonds than are strictly necessary. It's registered in her name, along with the matching bracelet still on her wrist. She needs to get rid of it. There's nowhere she can stuff it the police can't search. There's no one she can give it to she can trust to keep quiet. She could flush it down the toilet. She'd rather go to jail.

She goes to her bedroom, packs a bag. Gets ready to leave. Stands up, realises what she's done, laughs out loud to the empty apartment. Unpacks the bag.

* * *

She doesn't sleep all night. She gets into her silk pyjamas and slips between 800 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets. And then she stares at the ceiling for 8 hours. Waiting for tomorrow. In fact she lies there until her alarm bleeps. She reaches slowly to turn it off. She gets up, brews her coffee, scrambles her eggs. Showers and dresses and wears too much perfume. Sticks to her routine like glue.

* * *

Only it isn't that easy.

There's a phone call for her that afternoon. She's been expecting it, and somehow rises on steady legs. It's the FBI. They've found something that might belong to her, and they're wondering if it wouldn't be terribly inconvenient for them to pay her a visit within the next half hour. Of course not, she hears herself say. She'd be delighted to help in any way she can.

As she puts the phone down, Maxwell walks in.  
'CC, have you seen Niles this afternoon?'  
'He's not here?' She asks. Maxwell shakes his head.  
'He's been gone all day. Weren't you two out together last night?'  
'Yes,' she says, 'but don't worry, I had him home at a sensible time.' Maxwell drops that conversation like a hot poker.

'Who was on the phone?' He asks.  
'The FBI.' Maxwell isn't amused.  
'Well when he calls back can you tell him I'm not paying him to pull sick days?' And he starts to leave. As CC watches him go, she feels cold. She has no clue what she's doing. She's terrified. She's alone. She needs help.

'Maxwell,' she says. He turns around. 'It was the FBI on the phone. They have some questions for me.'  
'Questions about what?'  
'They didn't say. But I would imagine it has something to do with a necklace of mine being found next to a dead body a few blocks from the cinema Niles and I went to last night.' His jaw actually drops.

'CC –'  
'Don't ask me.'  
'CC –'  
'Don't ask me, Max.' She says. 'Do you know any good lawyers?'  
'Well I'm not half bad.'

And he looks at her, this man with whom for decades she was hopelessly in love, and he's offering to help her – to help them. The words don't come.

* * *

She'd assumed Special Agent Greg Simon would be wearing a raincoat. That he wouldn't have shaved in a while, or that his hair would be ruffled. That he'd be unthreatening, trying to lure her into a false sense of security. No such luck. He'd come alone, striding in wearing a power suit. All whitened teeth and golden badge and dazzling shoes. His features look almost delicate beneath cropped black hair. He is older that CC expected, but when he crushes her hand in his she realises she has been duped. Special Agent Greg Simon, it seems, is perfectly fine being completely fucking terrifying.

They go through to the office, Maxwell listening with a pad and pencil in the kitchen, finally understanding what had kept Niles glued to the intercom all those years.

'How can I help? I'm sorry; do I call you Agent or Special Agent?' She asks, trying for her most endearing smile. Remembering too late she's never really had one.  
'Either's fine,' he says. 'I'll jump right in Miss Babcock; I need to ask you a couple of questions.'  
'Of course. About what?' They sit down, CC in Maxwell's chair.  
'Where were you at midnight last night?'  
'I was on a date.'  
'With whom?'  
'Niles.'  
'Niles?'  
'The butler.'  
'The butler have a last name?'  
'I don't know.'  
'You don't know?' He doesn't believe her. 'Ma'am, how long have you know this man?'  
'About 20 years.'  
'And you don't know his last name?' Oh, shit.  
'That'd be correct.'

'Where'd you go?'  
'The cinema in Times Square.'  
'Which one?' He asks.  
'The Empire.'  
'What did you see?'  
'I...' Oh, _shit _'...I don't remember what it was called.'  
'Well what was it about?'  
'I don't remember.'  
'You don't remember?' He's threatening to smile.  
'I wasn't paying much attention.'

'What time did it finish?'  
'About 11:15.'  
'And how did you get home?'  
'Cab.'  
'You have the receipt?'  
'No.'  
'Where is it?'  
'Niles paid.'  
'And where is the mysterious Niles?'

Maxwell strides in, years in the theatre having honed his sense of timing.  
'Alright, I think Miss Babcock has answered enough questions.'  
'And who are you? Asks Simon. There's something in his eyes CC doesn't like.  
'Maxwell Sheffield, Miss Babcock's lawyer.'  
'Miss Babcock needs a lawyer?' He's playing with them, enjoying himself.

'Special Agent Simon,' Maxwell asks, 'why are you here?'  
'There was a murder last night.'  
'There were a lot of murders last night.'  
'We have reason to suspect that your client may have been involved.'  
'What reason?'  
'I just wanted to ask her a few simple questions.' Simon smiles.

'Why are the FBI involved?' Maxwell asks, and CC wonders why he ever bothered with the theatre.  
'The man killed was a foreign national.'  
'And that proved too much for New York's Finest?'  
'He was a spy, working for British Intelligence.' He looks Maxwell up and down. 'What little British Intelligence there is.'

'I'll need time to talk to my client.'  
'She'll need to come with me down to the local precinct.'  
'She's not going anywhere with you.' CC thinks they may be about to come to blows. She likes it.

* * *

In the end Maxwell drives them down to the station. He says nothing. He's so used to being driven that now he can barely drive in the city. It's entirely possible the brooding silence is just concentration.  
'CC, you need to tell me what's going on.'  
'What if I can't?'  
'You don't have a choice; do you see what's happening here? They're going to accuse you of murder, and the only defence we have right now is "I wasn't paying much attention." It's me CC, Maxwell, the more I know the more I can help you.'

There is silence in the car.

'CC, where is Niles?'  
'I have no idea.' He throws his hand up violently. As it lands it honks the horn, and his exasperation turns to embarrassment. 'Maxwell, he didn't tell me where he was going.'  
'What happened?'

'I don't know. We were walking home and there was a man. He had a gun and I thought he was robbing us, but Niles pulled out a knife. They were on the floor, and Niles told me to turn around. Then he had blood on his shirt and the man's intestines were on the floor.'  
'Then what?'  
'We got into a cab, went to some building in the Village. Niles had a key. There was a bag. Niles changed his clothes and said I couldn't help him and then he just left.'  
'You went straight home after that?'  
'I think so.'  
'And you left your necklace behind?'  
'Yes.'  
'They can tie you to it?'  
'Yes. It's a custom-made Harry Winston.'  
'You wore Harry Winston to the cinema?' He sounds more surprised than when she told him his butler was a killer.

'What did Niles say afterwards?' He continues.  
'That they'd worked together a long time ago. That there were others.'  
'How many others?'  
'Three.'  
'What did he tell you about them?'  
'Nothing.'  
'CC –'  
'Nothing at all.'

Silence in the car. When CC looks over at Maxwell, she almost mistakes his expression for fear.

* * *

When they get to the precinct it's exactly how CC had feared. There are doughnuts and coffee machines and people using the word 'perp.' They give her coffee when she asks for tea, they take her fingerprints and give her forms to sign. Maxwell appears from nowhere, grabbing her arm and dragging her into an out-of-use interview room. He looks terrified.  
'Max, what is it?' He says nothing. 'What do you know?'  
'Nothing.'

She can't believe what she's hearing.

'You have got to be kidding me,' she screeches. 'Do you know what intestines look like when they're spread out on the sidewalk?' He pales.  
'Alright.'  
'Would you like me to go into very graphic detail?'  
'I said alright! He pauses for a moment.

'Niles and I went to school together. We'd been close before, but at Oxford we drifted apart, started moving in different circles. He got in with a particular crowd. There were 5 of them. They were more popular and more intelligent than the rest of us. They were certainly louder.' He smiles fondly. 'They would stay up till dawn drinking and smoking and talking the big talk. We all wanted to be them. But when we graduated it all went silent.'  
'What do you mean?'  
'They just vanished. We didn't hear anything from any of them for years. Until one day Niles turned up at my door with a bullet in his side.'  
'What?'  
'He'd been recruited at Oxford by MI6. They'd shipped him out to some godforsaken country the day after we graduated.'  
'What happened to him?'  
'He quit. Or got kicked out. He never quite made it clear,' they share a smile. 'Either way, he said there were people after him now and he needed to disappear. So I married Sarah and we came to New York; started a new life with Niles as our butler.'

'That's ludicrous,' she says, 'how could Niles be a spy? He's the least discreet man in the country.'  
'He wasn't always like that. In New York he became a man who could never be found.'

'I don't believe it.' Says CC.  
'Then don't. Someone's dead and you're as good as in jail for it. It doesn't matter what you believe.'

There is a knock at the door. Maxwell stands, opens it. There's some mumbling.  
'I'll be back in two minutes,' he tells her. And leaves.

There's another knock at the door. She goes to open it, but the person on the other side just walks straight in. Her stomach drops. _Niles._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed my stuff so far. Your words keep me going. There's violence and swearing in this chapter, be warned. Like it? Loathe it? Let me know!**

...

For disclaimer see Chapter 1.

...

Niles looks like shit. Like he hasn't slept or eaten in days. When CC rushes to embrace him she realises he hasn't showered in days either. But she clings to him. Feels his arms wrap around her tightly as his head comes to rest in the crook of her neck.

'Are you alright?' He mumbles.  
'No,' she says, 'are you?'  
'Not really.' They pull apart.

'Where have you been?' She asks.  
'Watching you make a mess.'  
'And whose fault is that, Bond James Bond?'  
'Who forgets to pick up a Harry Winston?'  
'If only I'd been with an experienced, clear thinking adult who was looking out for me.'

There's a pause as they look at each other.

'What did Maxwell tell you?' He asks.  
'That you were a spy.'

'You're about to be arrested,' he says.  
'They can do that?'  
'Well they're going to. We need to get you out of here.'  
'How? Do you have a daring, ingenious plan?'  
'Yes.'  
'What is it?' He just smiles.

He leans in and takes her hand. For a second she thinks he's going to kiss her, and her eyes flutter closed. She feels metal at her wrist and hears a crunch. Handcuffs. She opens her eyes too late to stop him cuffing the other hand. She looks at him. He's holding back.

'Don't –' she warns.  
'I've always wanted to cuff you.' She tries not to smile, fails.

He grabs her by the chain, and it's all she can do to stop herself holding his hand. He opens the door, looks outside, drags her out. The hall is clear, but as they turn the corner they pass a young man in blue who looks at them suspiciously.

'Well this is just about the worst idea you've ever had,' she whispers.  
'We both know that's not true,' he says.  
'Who's going to believe I'm a criminal?'  
'You don't want me to answer that, do you?' She would glare at him, if only she didn't want to kiss him so badly.

'You can't seriously expect to just walk out the front door.'  
'All they know about this Niles character they're after is that he's charming and incredibly handsome. There's nothing stopping us from just walking out of here.'

* * *

Only it isn't that easy.

From out of a door comes Special Agent Greg Simon. He's talking to Maxwell, who seems to be at his most annoying. Simon looks irritated. His head is bowed and he's making hand gestures. Before CC can attract Niles' attention, he drags her into a conveniently-located stairwell.

'Change of plan,' he says. 'Basement.' And drags her down the stairs.  
'You know him?'  
'I do.'  
'How?'  
'Not now, CC; can't you see I'm trying to make a daring, ingenious escape?'

* * *

They almost make it to the bottom. Almost. It's a woman who stops them. She's young, in plain clothes. CC finds herself wondering what her children would look like. What her intestines look like.  
'You guys know it's just parking down there, right?' She says.  
'Yes, thank you.' Niles speaks and pulls CC onwards. She turns around, and sees the woman stood looking at them. Watching them. CC panics. She's spent entirely too much time at the business end of a gun.  
'Niles,' she says.

Then there's a click. And a crick. And they stop. And they turn. There it is again; the little black circle lighting the way to infinite darkness. And if she doesn't see another for as long as she lives CC thinks she'll be just fine.  
'What are you doing?' Asks Niles, 'put that away.'  
'Who are you?' Asks the woman.  
'Officer, I don't have time for this.'  
'It's "Detective."'  
'Can't you see I'm busy here?' He gestures towards CC.  
'Where are you taking her?'  
'Downstairs.'  
'You have the authority to do that?'  
'I do.'

'Can I see some ID?' The detective asks.  
'Of course.'  
Niles reaches into his inner jacket pocket, and CC hopes he's got more in there than his wallet. The Detective tenses.  
'Easy,' she says. Niles drops his hand to his side.  
'Well this is stupid,' he says. 'How can I show you my badge if you won't let me reach into my pocket?' She looks at him. 'You're new, aren't you?'  
'What's that got to do with anything?' She asks. He smiles. Oh dear.  
'Come and get it yourself.' And he puts his hands up.

For some reason she goes along with this. She edges forward, reaches her hand into Niles' jacket, and CC wants more than anything to tell her to stop. To run away. To remind her what intestines look like. Because if CC is going to be honest she doesn't know what this man is capable of; she has no idea. And this woman is so young, and so pretty, and so alive.

Niles moves just once. And not very far. As the Detective's hand fumbles in an empty pocket, reaching for the badge she'll never find, Niles jerks forwards. There's a crunch as his forehead collides with her nose. The Detective crumples.

Niles grimaces and rubs his forehead.  
'Do I have blood on my head?' He asks. CC just looks at him.  
'Was that absolutely necessary?' She asks.  
'What do you think?'

And drags her into the car park.

It's cold, and dark, loud with the noise of cars on the busy street above. He's holding her hand now, and it annoys her. She tries to wrench it from him. It doesn't work. He yanks her through rows of cars, testing doors as they go and peeking through mirrors. Nothing. From a distance CC hears a door close.

And then something very bad happens.

A window breaks. Or smashes. Or explodes. CC isn't sure what the correct terminology is, only that it's far too close to her _fucking_ head. And then Niles is on top of her, his hands somewhere around her head. As he reaches down to his sock CC almost tells him to stop dicking around, until she sees him pull out a gun.

'Where the hell did you get a gun?' She yells above the noise.

She feels him lift up for a moment, hears another shot. He's grappling for her hand then. Drags her up, forwards. As they move there seems to be glass flying everywhere. Windows caving in. Pinging as bullets hit metal. He's put himself between her and the other gun.

When she realises how familiar all of this is, CC almost laughs. Heroes and villains and life and death. It turns out the one thing Hollywood didn't account for is bad parking. She catches her hip on a wing-mirror and it almost takes her down. Niles drags her to the floor.

'Are you hit?' He asks her, running his hands over her. There's a look in his eye which almost has CC asking him the same question. She shakes her head, they keep moving.

Somehow she registers that the other gun is getting better. Or nearer. The bullets are getting closer.

There's a pillar. They stop. They collapse. It's just a pillar; one they're too old and too fat to fit behind, and he's crushing her into it. He's breathing heavily. He holds up a hand for silence, and they can hear the owner of the other gun moving. And then silence.

Niles leaps out. As soon as he leaves he's back again, with something not unlike a yelp. His hand flies to his neck. There's shock in his face as the collar of his white shirt runs red. She reaches for him, whispers his name. Now he just looks pissed off.

'To hell with this.' He says.

And stands. And shoots. He's walking away and firing at something or nothing or everything. Then there's silence. CC pokes her head out from behind the pillar. Sees him standing over a man on the floor. He's reloading his gun, searching his pockets. The man on the floor is built like a refrigerator. He's holding his stomach, covered in blood. His face is expressionless, and he's watching Niles with cold eyes.

Niles finds what he's looking for in his pocket. Snaps it into the gun. Points. Shoots.

The man goes limp.

Niles crouches and begins rifling through the man's pockets. He finds nothing, pulls back. Leans forward and with his fingertips closes the man's eyes. Stays crouched there for a minute. Just looking.

He stands, and comes back to her.

'Are you ok?' He asks.  
'Are you shot?' He reaches for his neck.  
'Not really.'

'That really was just about the worst rescue ever,' she says as he bends to uncuff her.  
'How many times have you been rescued?'  
'Just the once.'  
'Meaning it was also just about the best rescue ever.' She tries not to smile, fails again.

* * *

He takes her to a nearby hotel. She gets them a room. He stands in the corner, pretending to look at some tourist brochures and trying not to bleed on the furniture.

He follows her up in the elevator. She leaves the door open for him, and by the time he gets into the room she's already filling the sink with warm water. He stands in the door and watches her. She turns to him, slides off his jacket, begins unbuttoning his shirt. He grimaces as she undresses him.

'Sorry,' she whispers. And then; 'sit down.'

She swivels him to sit on the toilet, rinses a washcloth in the sink, and begins to clean his neck. The water turns red. It's on her hands, down his back. The bullet has just grazed him; there's a deep fissure on his neck she presumes will scar. For the first time she sees in his side another knot of silver tissue. Then she remembers that this isn't the first time he's been shot.

'I think it needs stitches,' she says.  
'Just put a dressing on it.'

So she does. She should probably be questioning how wise it is to be following his instructions so closely. Or at least asking why she isn't questioning it. Instead she smoothes the edges of the bandage, allows her hands to linger on his shoulders. As she lets them fall he catches them in his own. And all of a sudden she doesn't much care how many people have died at his hands, because they're soft and they're warm and they're _touching_ her.

'Here's what's going to happen, Niles,' she says, 'you and I are going to go in to the bedroom.' His eyebrows rise. 'We're going to sit down, and you're going to tell me every single sordid detail.'

She drops his hands, moves to leave, turns the light out as she goes.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hi, me again. Thank you again for reviews. I'm not crazy about this chapter; it's pretty lacklustre. If you don't like it, I'm sorry - at least it's short. Oh, and I apologize for the three paragraphs which are just shameless; I couldn't resist.**

**...**

For disclaimer see Chapter 1.

**...**

He needs to ring the Sheffields first. Picks up the phone in the corner of the room. Dials the number, even though he knows the hotel will keep records. There's an answer on the third ring.

'Hello?' It's Fran. Niles wants to weep at the sound of her voice, and for once not because it's so loud.  
'Fran, It's Niles.'  
'Niles where are you? What's going on?'  
'Ring Maxwell, tell him I called. Tell him it's time to take you all on that vacation. Aruba is lovely this time of year.'  
'Niles what is going on?'

He doesn't know how much to tell her. How much she knows. How much time they have.

'Fran?'  
'Yeah?'  
'Thank you for being such a good friend.'

He hangs up.

* * *

He sits on the bed, CC takes a desk chair. She refuses to slouch. Niles refuses to look at her.

'I was 21,' he begins, 'and terrified. I was about to graduate, with no job or home to go to. MI6 made me an offer and I took it gladly. For a while it was...' He pauses, '...wonderful. They flew me everywhere, paid for everything. It was glamorous and sexy and I was proud to be doing it. There were 4 others recruited with me; we'd been something of a gang at Oxford. At first we didn't have much contact, but we gradually we began working together as a unit.'

'These are the people coming after you?'  
'Yes. It was useful at first, having 5 of us. Every exit was covered, every possibility considered. Of course it all fell apart.'  
'What happened?' She asks.  
'Things would go missing, people would "disappear" unnecessarily. We were living together and working together. There was always going to be tension –we began to fight. There was a woman, too,' he gives her a wry smile. 'Women tend to complicate things.'

'There was a group acting out of Russia, siphoning Kazakh oil from a European pipeline. They were starving downstream countries of oil, then selling it to them more cheaply than legitimate companies could afford. We had a terrorist fraction creating a monopoly, putting whole corporations out of business, and it was all being funded at government level. It just couldn't be allowed, so the Kremlin stepped in and provided oil for all the nations being held over a proverbial barrel. It was chaos. Less oil was going to the west but Russian wells were stretched to capacity. The Belarusians were livid, obviously; they were _bleeding_ money. It went on for years; nobody could work out why the KGB hadn't been able to stop it.

'We were sent in to buy oil posing as a group of Germans. Only it was a ruse. It turned out this gang had been invented by the Russian government. In reality they had been stealing the oil then passing it off as their own, giving them total control in the east.'

His voice is steady, clinical. His words are slow, measured. He's rehearsed this, has had 25 years of secrecy to practice.

'I don't quite know how it happened, but all hell broke loose. We ended up killing everybody. It was ridiculous. We were just stood in this room with all this oil and all this money.'

'You stole it?' He looks at her then. As though it's the first time. She thinks perhaps it could be. He looks away.  
'All of it.' His voice a whisper. 'Drove away in wagons to a cabin in the middle of nowhere. We just sat there, looking at each other; didn't speak the entire time. It took me three days to pack up all the money and walk out.'

'Why did you take the cash?' She asks. He looks back at her quickly.  
'What would you have done? Murderous criminals make poor bedfellows CC.'  
'I wouldn't know.'

CC wishes she could stop looking at him. Wishes she could look anywhere but at his face. Because there's nothing there; no anger or pain or compassion. He's cold, expressionless. She doesn't know this man. She doesn't love this man.

'What did you do with the money?' She asks.  
'I couldn't work out the best way to get rid of it, so I put it in a safe place. And then I did what I've always done; I went to Maxwell.'

'How could you have lived like this? Carrying this around?'  
'Practice.'

She finally recognises the look on his face. It's shame. She feels relieved. Then shame of her own.

'Who was the man in the alley?'  
'His name was Cass Taylor.' It feels strange, saying the name out loud for the first time in so long. 'He liked to keep people alive for as long as possible. Totally crazy. Occupational hazard.' She doesn't laugh. He isn't sure he wants her to.

'And the man in the car park?'  
'That was Dexter Budd. He was the muscle.'

'How do you know Special Agent Greg Simon?' She asks.  
'Who?'  
'The man at the station.'  
'Him?' She nods. 'He's calling himself "Greg Simon"?' She nods again. Now he laughs. 'That's terrible; it's just two first names stuck together. How unimaginative. His name is Sebastian. He was the leader of the pack. Charming, intelligent, good with pets.' He chooses his next words carefully. 'I'd be doing you a disservice if I didn't warn you about him. But there are stories I'm not prepared to tell.'

'Who was the woman?' He has the grace to blush.  
'She was called Phoebe.'  
'You and she were involved?'  
'Very much so.'  
'Why were things complicated?'  
'She was married to Sebastian.'

'You're not the man I thought you were,' she says.  
'Few people are.'

'What happens next? We can't just sit here,' she says.  
'You're forgetting that the entire NYPD has your photo. They're actively looking for us. You are now a fugitive.'  
'And thank you _so_ much for rescuing me.'  
'Believe me, with Max as your lawyer you didn't stand a chance.'  
'He was doing _very_ well.'  
'Yes, and he's _very_ well acquainted with the words "plea bargain."'

'What are you going to do?' She asks.  
'I have to find Phoebe. She'll know I've killed her brother –'  
'Her brother?'  
'Dexter was her brother.'

CC laughs. Actually truly genuinely laughs until her stomach hurts and her cheeks are wet with tears. She stops, eventually, and feels nauseous. He whispers her name. CC notices a tinge of red in the hair behind his ear.  
'Is there anything about this that isn't _awful_?' She says.  
'Not that I'm aware of.'

'How will you find Phoebe?'  
'She could be at one of the old haunts.'  
'You have "old haunts"?' She asks. When only one of her eyebrows goes up he takes it as a good sign. He knows he shouldn't.  
'About 10 minutes before I left the group in Russia I went into her room, asked her to leave with me. She refused, said she couldn't leave Sebastian.' He coughs, shifts in his seat. 'I told her if she loved me she'd meet me in 6 months at the top of the Empire State Building.'

'You're kidding right?' He shakes his head sheepishly. 'My, how romantic you are. Original too.'  
'Remember that part where I got shot breaking you out of jail?'  
'Remember the part where I asked you to do that?' She stands. 'Me neither.' She needs to move, to pace, to put some kind of distance between them.

But of course he stands with her.

'CC.' He grabs her elbows, turns her towards him; his expression is solemn. 'I'm always going to break you out of jail.' She throws her hands up, laughs.  
'Such a romantic –'

He kisses her. He doesn't mean to. It's an accident. But all of a sudden he can't _not_ kiss her. And as her lips press against his he feels incredibly sad. Because he wants her. He _fucking_ wants her. And wouldn't it be so simple just to run away. To get a train and get married and get away from this shit he's got her into. Only that's all nonsense now. Because she's kissing him back. His hands are tangled in her hair and her lips are prying his open and when his tongue touches hers she makes a sound that makes his knees weak.

Her arms snake up to rest round his injured neck. He gasps, pulling away. She opens her eyes slowly. She is flushed and panting, her lips red amid tousled blonde hair. It's her eyes though. They're black. And Niles knows that his whole life he hasn't ever wanted anything anywhere near as much as he wants her.

Her blouse has blood on it; there are bags on the bags below her eyes; her makeup is smudged. She hasn't slept in days, can't remember the last time she ate or even used the bathroom. She looks exhausted and emotional and exactly like everything he's ever dreamed of.

'I stole from them. Now they're going to steal from me.' He says, imploring her to understand.  
'I don't belong to you,' she says gently. She gets it.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. This took me a while. If you're still reading and/or reviewing; thank you. This is short - the next chapter will be up ASAP. If it's any consolation, in the past week I've failed two exams and made about a dozen people cry. Go me...**

...

For disclaimer see Chapter 1.

**...**

Niles loves New York; he has since the first time. 25 years ago he would wait excitedly for free time then walk miles down the unfamiliar streets. He was allowed to feel lost here; could forget where he was, just for a little while. He doesn't feel that now. It has become his home, anchoring him to the life he loves, a painful reminder of the things he must now leave behind.

He walks the 20 blocks in the dark. It's warm, but a scarf covers the bandage on his neck. He enters the lobby of the empire state building, rides the escalator. There are tourists here. There is laughter, normality. Someone even asks him to take a picture of them. Something aches inside of him as he does. He doesn't belong here.

When he gets up to the top, he looks out, looks down. All of a sudden there's nothing more to say; it's so fucking beautiful. There's a biting wind up here. Niles pulls his jacket tight, and stands alone in the corner. Just looking out.

* * *

He knows that she's there when the view doesn't quite feel as beautiful any more. He turns.

'Well Niles,' she says, 'you could certainly be accused of having a type.'

He laughs before he can stop himself. She looks different somehow. Perhaps he's just looking at her differently. She's still beautiful. Her blonde hair is tucked beneath a black hat, but even in this light he could tumble into her the blue of her eyes. She isn't smiling, but he can tell she wants to.

'How are you?' He asks.  
'Not quite as well as I was before you killed my brother.'  
'I'm sorry.'  
'Was he shooting at you?'  
'Oh yes.' She nods, pauses.

'We hadn't spoken in a long time,' she says.  
'I'm sorry.'

She nods again. Then turns to look at him – really look at him. There's half a smile on her face; it's entrenched in wrinkles he hasn't seen before. But oh, he remembers that smile. Remembers what it could do to him.

'You look old,' she says. He laughs.  
'And fat, right?' Now it's her turn to laugh.  
'Oh yes.' She turns back to look at the city, gesturing out at the blanket of stars. He wishes he could stop looking at her; feels like he's staring. 'So this is where you've been all these years?'  
'And where have you been hiding?'  
'Here and there, there and here. You know how it is.'  
'I'd forgotten.'

'I've missed you,' she says. He nods, looks away.

'How did you find me?' He asks.  
'We didn't. When Cass turned up dead we just presumed that he'd seen you. What else could bring him out of the woodwork?'  
'"We"?'  
'Sebastian is –'  
'- nearby,' he finishes for her. 'And you just happened to all be in the same city?' As he asks her he finds himself hoping he doesn't already know the answer.  
'No.'

* * *

'So what do we do?' She continues.  
'That depends on you.'  
'And on my husband.'  
'He's going to kill me?' He asks.  
'Yes, he's quite adamant.'  
'And you sound heartbroken.'  
'I _tried_ to convince him not to.' But she's smiling.

'And what about CC?'  
'"CC"? What the hell kind of a name is "CC"? Is she a Pomeranian?'

He looks at her. He's worried about how much she knows, and they can both see it. But she knows being frightened only makes him more angry. And he's livid. She didn't expect he would be so involved with this woman. Her eyebrows rise, she continues.

'He's -' she pauses, '- quite adamant.'  
'Is there anything I can do?'  
'To stop us coming for you?'  
'Yes.'  
'No.' She purses her lips. 'You stole from us all Niles. Left us with nothing in the middle of nowhere.'  
'I know.'  
'It was fucking cold out there.'  
'I know.' She just looks at him. 'I walked out, remember?'

She tilts her head, has the gall to look unimpressed.  
'Boo hoo,' she says. There's a pause, and she's looking at him expectantly.  
'Well do you want me to apologize?'  
'It wouldn't hurt.'  
'Wouldn't hurt _you_.'

She's back to gazing at the city now, and she's smiling again.

'Actually, I'm sorry,' she says.  
'What for?'  
'For not coming here, all those years ago.' He almost laughs, though it could be embarrassment.  
'Why are you sorry?'  
'You've lived a life, Niles.' She waves an arm. 'Or some kind of life. We've been running for 25 years. I'm exhausted.'

She looks disappointed, but if it's by him or by life itself he can't be sure. He is pleased by the intimacy of this moment; loving this woman was no mistake.

'I didn't come either,' he says.  
'Liar.'

She looks at him keenly, and for the first time she can't read him. She doesn't know what he's thinking. This saddens and gladdens him. He clears his throat.

'There was someone else,' he says. She smiles now, thinks she's got him figured out.  
'Liar.' But he says nothing. 'It took you 4 years to _talk_ to me,' she says. 'You're saying that less than 6 months after meeting this woman, you'd "moved on."'

He smiles, walks away from this woman, and the beauty, and that biting wind. As he leaves he calls back over his shoulder.  
'After 6 minutes.'


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: When reading Keats, I read 'Seasons of mist and mellow...DRAMA.' It shows... but man, was this chapter fun to write! And the ending's now in sight. I've sketchy New York knowledge, but I do know there are no lockers in the Port Authority, oh beloved Fact Fans.**

**...**

For disclaimer see Chapter 1.

**...**

While Niles is gone CC switches hotels at his request. They've bucked tradition; plumped for the Waldorf-Astoria. They're hiding in plain sight; who'd look for two fugitives in one of the most exclusive hotels in the city? When he gets to the room CC is sat on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands. There's a pain in his chest when he sees her. She looks up at him and smiles.

'How did it go?' She says.

He walks to the black bag and wrenches it open. From it he pulls the pills he takes for his angina, swallows them dry.

'What did she have to say?' She asks.  
'Nothing of much importance.'

Neither of them says anything. Until she can't bear it.

'Niles, what's –'  
'CC,' he says over her, 'what are you doing here?'  
'What do you mean?' She says slowly.  
'Why are you here, in this room, with me?'

Her mouth falls open.

'Because –' she starts, but he can't bear to hear her speak.  
'You have no ties to this, there's nothing keeping you here.'  
'You're keeping me here.'  
'I'm not _keeping_ you here; I didn't ask for your help.'

_Oh_. She stands, furious.

'Do you not remember, the other day, when I got arrested for killing that man _you _murdered?' She says. 'Or when _you_ broke me out of jail? Or when one of _your_ old cronies tried to shoot me? If you had _asked_ me to be here, Niles, I would have said no.'

'You don't belong here CC.'  
'You don't say. First prize to the butler.' She throws her hands up. 'Who actually isn't a butler at all, but a spy.'  
'I'm not a spy –'  
'You lied to me for 25 years, and then you wrenched me from a life I was finally enjoying – a life I won't ever be able to go back to – and now you're getting pissy with me. Well that's fine.'

She's standing so close he can smell her.

'Your life was pretty awful,' he says.  
'Whereas this is just so much better. You're right; having your dream job and a home and people you love pales in comparison to seeing a man get his innards ripped out.'  
'This is who I am.'  
'No it isn't, it's who you were,' she says, 'I get it Niles, I really do understand. This was your life, and now it's come back to bite you in the ass.'

God, she's making this hard.

'You're just getting in the way here,' he says.  
'No kidding.'

'CC you aren't listening,' he says, and she looks at him. 'You're not the kind of woman who can handle this.'

There's a pause.

'Is Phoebe?' She says quietly.  
'Is Phoebe the kind of woman who can handle this?'  
'Yes.'  
'Yes.'

She looks him hard in the eye.

'Where will I go?' She says.  
'I don't care.'

.

She leaves in a flurry; grabs her coat and mumbles things she can't bring herself to say. She's crying and his fingers itch to touch her. Niles is left in the room with just the smell of her. Nothing to comfort him but the thought that jail is the safest place for her anyway.

.

In the empty room Niles puts on his gloves and begins to clean; methodically wiping from each surface their fingerprints, checking for hairs and fibres which would give them away. They're sure to have been recorded, and he's is guessing they can be tracked to the hotel. That said, he'd prefer to have some distance between them and the authorities from here on. When he's finished he pulls from his pocket a letter addressed to Greg Simon, slides it beneath the mattress. And he leaves.

* * *

It's still dark as he walks to the Port Authority Bus Terminal. He chooses to go through Times Square. There is an abundance of cameras here, and though he knows it's unwise he finds that he wants to be captured on film somewhere. He wants to be preserved on record.

He is well aware he's being followed, whether by one or both of them he isn't sure. He can't bring himself to make it easy for them. He takes the long route, crosses the road with the traffic in mid-flow, bends to re-tie his shoe, stops to look at a window display. He is embarrassed when he realises he's enjoying himself. This is the man he used to be; this is who he was. He left this person behind 25 years ago. Hasn't missed him much.

In the Port Authority he goes to a bay of lockers. Pulls a key from his shoe, and opens one of the doors. The black bag is in there, and he thinks of CC sat at the table in that little room. And then there's no denying he's thinking of her. It has to stop. He goes upstairs and buys a ticket for the next departing bus. He gets it at the last second. He isn't followed on.

* * *

The drive is long, and dull. 25 years ago Niles would have been able to simply detach from the situation; to distance himself and remain disengaged for the duration of the journey. Now he wishes he'd bought a magazine or a puzzle book or something. He fights sleep, knows his dreams will be full of blonde hair and blue eyes. He fails, waking up suddenly with the feeling of hair between his fingers, red lips against his.

* * *

He gets of the bus at some small place in Pennsylvania. For all the years he's had to plan this, he's got no plan more sophisticated than get the fuck out of town. Niles has read all the protocols, knows all the procedures, and this goes against them all. He isn't ready for a fight with Sebastian at home. Which is to say that home isn't ready for them. He's never been to this town, has no idea of the best place to hide. So he does the only sensible thing; he finds a bench directly opposite the bus stop. And he sits there. And he waits.

* * *

Three hours later he's thirsty and beginning to burn in the midday sun. He gets up, picks up the bag, and walks to a little store at the corner of the street. It's dark inside, and cool.

Though he'd claim to the end to have been looking at tools, he is browsing cleaning products when it happens. A tap on the shoulder. He turns, and runs headlong into a freight train. He's on the floor before his brain registers he's been hit. He opens his eyes and sees a face he wasn't expecting. His view of Sebastian is obscured by a fist. This time when he's hit it's all he can do to stay conscious.

Niles finds himself dearly wishing he hadn't spent the past 25 years cleaning toilets. Clearly, Sebastian hasn't been wasting time. Niles loses focus. There's weight above him; hands on his throat; his head is being smacked against the floor. He chooses to believe his response is innate. His hands find their way to Sebastian's eyes, digging in. He yelps, loosens his grasp. Niles drives his knee into Sebastian's crotch, pushes the man off him. Drags himself up gasping, stumbles for the exit. But Sebastian is already half way to upright, and Niles knows he'll never make it. He reaches for the nearest shelf, blindly grabbing two bottles. He throws one at Sebastian's head, opens the other. He sprays the contents at the man on the floor, who covers his face groaning. Niles is running for the door again, stooping to collect his bag.

'I have CC,' he hears.

Niles stops, exhausted. He can't run any more.

* * *

CC doesn't know where she is. She's tired, and hungry, and sat in a draught. She's perched on a stool beneath a single light. Phoebe is sat opposite her, watching her. There's a gun.

'How long have you known Niles?' Phoebe asks.  
'A long time.'  
'How long?' CC looks at her, sighs.  
'About 25 years.'

CC sees the other woman dim. She looks away.

'Did you know he and I used to be together?' Phoebe says.  
'Yes.'

There's another silence.

'So,' says Phoebe, 'you're in theatre.'  
'Is that a question?'  
'No.'

The silence is awkward. Phoebe is looking at her, eyebrows raised.

'Where are you from?' She asks. CC decides she's had enough.  
'What do you want?' Phoebe pauses.  
'I don't know what you mean,' she says, and CC scoffs, fixes her with a glare.  
'Of course you do. You're probably not trying to ask me out or start a sorority. So tell me, what do you want?'

Phoebe smiles. She's impressed.

'I want to know the woman Niles left me for,' she says.  
'What are you talking about?'  
'He and I had a date, a long time ago; at the top of the Empire State Building.'

CC smiles.

'Yes,' she says, 'I heard about that.'  
'Only he never showed up.'

CC lets the smile drop.

'Why not?'  
'Apparently he'd "moved on."'  
'"Moved on"?'  
'"Moved on."'

CC is shocked, and not a little delighted. It might just be because she's finally got this woman to shut up. Or it might be something else.

* * *

It could be minutes, could be hours. There is no time but this moment, no space but this darkened room. They sit, and they look at each other. They don't speak again.

And then Niles walks in. His eyes search the room until they land on her own. He walks towards her stiffly. When he gets closer to the light she sees his face is mangled and swelling.

'25 years you've never had trouble running away from me, and _now_ you're stuck like glue?' He says.  
'Like a fly to the proverbial sh-'  
'Shh,' he says, and reaches for her, touches her arm. Just to reassure himself she's still there.

She's still there.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Sorry for the delay, I reached something of a block this week. Here we have a two-parter - I just chickened out of posting it as a whole. Be warned - there's torture (twice), 'themes of a sexual nature' and language. Read at your own peril.**

**...**

For disclaimer see Chapter 1.

**...**

He's touching her, and still she can't believe it. He usually speeds her heart up, but now he's slowing it down. She can't help but feel that this might not be the basis for a stable relationship. Then she looks around; of course it's not. She's had stable relationships before. Hated them all.

'What happened to your face?' She asks.  
'Face lift, don't you like it?'  
'Did I say that? Definitely an improvement.' He smiles. 'You should have done it years ago.'

Phoebe turns to her husband.  
'You hit him?' She says.  
'What do you think?'  
'I think you hit him.'  
'Your insightful mind always was one of the things I liked most about you.'

'Past tense?' Niles asks from across the room.

Nobody says anything.

'Oh,' continues Niles. 'You aren't together anymore?'  
'With you out in the open, we found reason to reunite,' Sebastian offers.  
'I'm flattered.'

'I'm not,' CC interjects.  
'Who asked you?' Says Sebastian.

'Hey,' says Niles, 'nobody talks to her like that but me.'  
'How noble,' Sebastian drawls.

There's a pause.

'So,' Niles says, 'what's the plan here?'  
'Plan?' Sebastian says.  
'Well were we brought here for a tea party?'  
'No.'  
'Then what's the _fucking_ plan?'

Sebastian smiles, moves to a darkened corner. He comes back with a chair. Places it near Niles, opposite CC.  
'Sit down,' he says. Niles just looks at him.  
'No.'

Niles gets hit again, and this time it's the noise CC makes that hurts the most. It's partway between a gasp and a moan. It sounds like she's wishing Niles had been working out. She jerks towards him as he hits the floor, but before she can blink he swings his feet round, takes Sebastian's legs from under him. Sebastian groans as he falls, smacks his head against the ground. CC's attention is diverted by a click which is now quite familiar. She turns to find Phoebe pointing the gun in her direction, eyes on Niles.

'Didn't you hear him?' Phoebe growls. 'Sit down.'

He sits down.

Sebastian produces duct tape. Niles makes a joke about them not being able to afford handcuffs or rope. Sebastian just smiles.

'Give it time,' he says.

* * *

Turns out they want the money back. After all that. With all their lies and lethality and intelligence, in the end all they want is cold hard cash. She has no idea where it is, doesn't even know her own location. He claims he gave it away to clear his conscience. Says he didn't need it.

So they start hitting him. With fists, and when their hands bleed they find a pole and beat him until it bends. They're discussing where to find pliers when CC throws up. And then Sebastian turns, and looks at her.

'Niles,' he says, 'pay attention.'

Sebastian smiles, walks towards her, slaps her with an open hand.

'Hey,' Niles shouts, 'what do you think you're doing?'

All of sudden Sebastian seems furious; he drags her by her hair, drops her at Niles' feet. She reaches out to touch his leg; feels his calf tense.

'Do you see this woman?' Sebastian asks.  
'Yes.' Though Niles is looking him square in the eye.  
'Do you know what I could do to her?' There's no reply. He shouts this time. 'Do you remember what I can do Niles? Or have you forgotten?'

There's a pause as Niles looks at her. CC thought he looked awful before; now she can barely recognise him as he takes great rasping gulps of air. She wonders absently how many ribs are broken. Yet beneath the sweat and blood are his eyes, and in the blue somehow she finds what's left of him.

'She isn't involved in this Sebastian. It has nothing to do with her.'  
'How right you are Niles. This has nothing whatsoever to do with her. But you got her involved; you dragged her into this _blindfolded_. You had a choice in that alley. You could have given her up and come quietly; you could have kept her out of this, spared her, given her a chance. But you decided you couldn't do it without her, didn't you Niles? You decided you _needed _her,' Sebastian sneers. He seems energised, excited at having found the chink in the armour.

'It wasn't like that –'  
'- Well of course it was. Now you're expecting her to pay for your weaknesses; your mistakes.' This time when Sebastian smiles CC decides it might be the most frightening thing she's ever seen. 'And that doesn't seem fair to me.'

Niles closes his eyes.

'I'm telling you,' he says, 'I gave it all away.'

Sebastian drags CC back to her chair. Phoebe ties her to it. And they hit her too. Niles is crying now through closed eyes.

* * *

She screams his name at one point. Out of sheer terror; because he's the one who can make it easier to bear. And that's when he knows how to make this stop.

'I slept with your wife Seb.'

Sebastian stops. Silence.

'I fucked her. Screwed her _over_ and _over_ and _over_ again.'

CC doesn't know what she could say to shut him up. To get him to stop talking. He's hurting her. He's probably about to get hurt too. Sebastian turns to look at him.

'You know what the worst part is?' He doesn't wait for an answer. 'It's that she loved me. Did you know that? She _loved_ me. And I loved her. There was nothing stopping me from taking her from you.'  
'She wouldn't have left me.'  
'Do you really believe that? For one second, do you think that's the truth?'

Sebastian looks over at Phoebe. She stands behind CC, a gun in her hand, the image of the woman they had both fallen in love with. She tilts her head.

'You lied to me?' He asks.  
'Yes,' she says.  
'Why?' Her eyebrow goes up.  
'What was the alternative?'

A muscle jumps in Sebastian's jaw. He looks back at Niles, pulls a knife from his back pocket, leaps towards him like a man possessed.

'No Sebastian,' Niles is saying, 'not like this. It isn't worth it.'

Sebastian descends on Niles, brandishing the blade.

'You took everything from me.'  
'No, I took some money. I left you with a fortune.'

The knife bites into Niles' neck. He hears CC yelp, and is struck by a curious thought; that he doesn't know what her initials stand for. He'll never know what she looks like first thing in the morning, or whether their second date would have gone better than their first. He is full of questions only she can answer. And damn if that isn't all of a sudden something worth living for. He doesn't want to die. He wants, _desperately_, to live.

'Alright,' he says.

Sebastian stops.

'"Alright"?'  
'I'll tell you where it is.'  
'All of it?'  
'On one condition.'  
'Let her go?'  
'Yes.'

'How can I trust you?'  
'You have my word. You know me.'  
'No,' Sebastian says. 'I don't know you at all.'  
'Do you remember that time in Zagreb?' Sebastian pauses, nods.  
'Alright.'  
'I want to _watch_ her walk out of here.'

CC whispers his name. Phoebe isn't so subtle.

'You don't actually think this will work, do you Sebastian?'  
'Just do it.' She snorts as he hands her the knife.  
'You're in denial.'  
'No,' Sebastian says, points at CC, 'she's into Niles. That's why this is going to work.'

Sebastian begins to untie him; Phoebe cuts the duct tape holding her in place. When they are free they sink towards each other.

'Niles,' CC says.  
'It's alright.'  
'What did you do?'  
'It's alright.'  
'Oh, God.'

Phoebe prods Niles with the gun.

'Let's go,' she says.

And they move forward.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: And here we have the end. Thank you to anyone still reading or reviewing this piece. At times it's felt pretty arduous, let me tell you. And at other times it's felt suspiciously like the only thing keeping me going. So thanks. I've learned so much.**

**In this chapter can be found fighting, and graphic death. There's also some emotional shit. Beware of the emotional shit.**

**...**

For disclaimer see Chapter 1.

**...**

Sebastian leads the way to a door at the corner in the room. CC is wrapped around Niles; leaning on a man who can barely stand. They make slow progress. As they go through the door it becomes clear to Niles that they're in the basement of an apartment building. They climb a flight of some stairs, and before them on the landing is an entrance. There's light pouring into the darkened hall from round the edges of the door. Niles realises it must be daytime, and this fills him with hope.

The feeling passes, and quickly. Footsteps; he can hear footsteps. Sebastian turns back to them, gives them a warning look. Niles pulls CC closer, though it does no good. The light under the door is obscured by feet. There is the sound of a key being inserted into a lock. The handle turns, the door opens.

It's a man. A young man at that. He's short, and slight, and his hair is thinning already. It really couldn't matter less, because Niles knows already that this guy - with his grocery bag and his converse shoes - is going to die. He's not wrong.

Phoebe doesn't put the gun away quickly enough, that's what it is. The man sees it, frowns.

'Hey -' he says.

Phoebe just stands there, and it's Sebastian who takes action. He swoops forwards, hits the man once and twists his neck until it cracks. The young man hits the floor like a rock. The grocery bag falls sideways, from it rolls an orange. Phoebe looks down.

Niles strikes. He knocks the gun from her hand, grabs a fistful of her hair and smashes her head into the wall. Then he turns. Sebastian lunges for him, pushes him to the floor. Niles flips them, bringing himself on top.

'CC,' he yells, 'get out.'

She runs through the open door, doesn't look back.

He kneels hard on Sebastian, wraps his hands around his neck. Squeezes and squeezes and squeezes tighter and tighter and tighter. It isn't enough. Sebastian's arms come up, smashing his elbows out and forcing them to buckle. He head butts Niles, rolls them over.

Then Sebastian is hitting him with bloody, swollen hands. Still there's a smile on his face. Beside them Phoebe begins to stir. Niles has to do something. He isn't sure how, but he manages to dodge a blow. There's a crack as Sebastian's hand hits the floor; he pulls his arm back quickly and cradles his hand. Niles hits him in the stomach, and he creases at the middle. Niles hits him in the face; slams him into the wall.

He scrambles over Phoebe to the gun. He grabs it, cocks it, stands. But now Sebastian is on his feet, and Phoebe has opened her eyes; is blinking confusedly and touching her head.

Sebastian takes of advantage of Niles' momentary lapse of attention, dives for him once more. So Niles pulls the trigger. Just the once. The bullet hits Sebastian in the cheek, damn near blows off half his face. Phoebe's on her feet by the time his body hits the floor.

They both stand there, looking at the shell-riddled shell of this man.

'Niles –' she whispers, but he's already lifting the gun towards her. 'Haven't we done enough? Can't this be the end?'

He lets the gun fall to his side. Looks at her. She smiles. There's blood on her face. He smiles back.

She reaches to her back pocket, more quickly than he can register. She pulls out the knife, reaches for him, slashes his chest. He blocks her with his arm; drops the gun. She swipes for him repeatedly; when he feels the solid wall behind him he falters, she nicks his side. Then she's against him, the knife pressed to his neck, and now all he's trying to do is keep her at bay. He does something stupid; moves over the blade and crashes his forehead into her nose. She stumbles backwards. He grabs her wrist, bends it almost until it snaps. Her grip on the knife loosens. His tightens. He drives the knife upwards into her abdomen. Twists it.

She falls slowly, and all the while she's pressed close to him, looking him in the eye. She whispers his name, and her eyelids flutter. He's seen her this way a thousand times before. He's loved her this way a thousand times before. His hands are covered the warmth she leaks. She sighs, but it ends up more of a groan. Her eyes close for the last time and she sags against him. He lets go of her, she drops to the floor without a sound.

Niles stands there for a moment. Looking down. All the past and all the present, oozing onto the floor.

He steps over the bodies, walks out of the door, closes it behind him.

* * *

She's sat slumped against a wall when he finds her, just around the corner. He collapses next to her, pressed so close they touch from shoulder to foot. And Niles can't help but see that he's once more toe to toe with this woman. He takes her cold hand in his own.

'Are you alright?' He says.  
'No, but I will be.'

'CC,' he says, 'I won't ever be able to make amends for this.'

She pauses.

'Niles,' she says, 'you won't ever have to.'

And they sit.

.

'What do we do now?' She asks.  
'What do you mean?'  
'Where do we go?' He pauses.  
'Where do you want to go?'  
'Where _can_ we go?'

Good point.

'They'll have frozen all your assets.'  
'So I have nothing?' He looks at her.  
'You don't have nothing CC.' She looks back at him.

Neither of them speaks.

'Have you ever been to England?'  
'Yes,' she says, and he's silent.  
'Did you like it?'  
'Very much.'

He looks down at her hand, strokes it.

'There's something I haven't told you,' he says.  
'What else could there possibly be?' He just looks at her. She closes her eyes. 'Tell me quickly.'  
'I'm in love with you.'

She opens her eyes, doesn't say a word. He continues.

'I have been for some time. I have money in England. Come away with me CC.'  
'Is there anything else I don't know?'  
'Yes. But there's nothing else I can tell you.' She looks at him. She might look sad, he isn't sure. Her palm is sweaty. 'You should know I'm dangerous -' he says. Her head tilts and he stops.  
'So is your cheesecake.'

But he has to go on. Needs her to know.

'I'm wanted in countries you've never even heard of.'  
'I want you too,' she says.  
'You do?'  
'More than anything.'  
'More than anything?' He says, in awe of her.  
'Oh, a hot bath sounds pretty good to me right now,' she frowns. 'Or a meal, come to think of it.'

He lets go of her hand, stands, pulls her up. They stand and look at each other.

'So,' she says, 'are you going to kiss me or what?'

He smiles, moves closer. Wraps her in his arms.

'What,' he says. But he kisses her anyway. And it's glorious.

* * *

They don't walk off into the sunset. In fact they run, making their exit as they made their entrance; in an alleyway. They steal a car; drive it until they run out of gas. Niles makes a phone call; goes to a bank and somehow manages to withdraw money. They get on a plane, fly to a town 200 miles from their destination. Steal another car. But they get there eventually.

It's a large house, reeking of old money and traditions she'll never understand. She stands in the hall as he goes upstairs. He's gone maybe 10 minutes, returns with bulging black bags. They drive away in a stolen car laden with stolen money. She sits across from him and wonders how the hell she got here, how she came to be so far from all the things she knows. She looks out, at the greenery and the dry-stone walls, and it is all so unfamiliar to her. Yet for as long as she's beside him, she is precisely where she was meant to be. Broadway be damned. He is everything she's ever wanted. Home.


End file.
